


Twenty Eight Point Six Percent

by marsisaplanet



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Animal Shelter, Cats, Cooking, Fluff, Interior Decorating, M/M, OT7, Omelets !!!, Polyamorous Losers Club (IT), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie gets paint everywhere, Song: Love Song (The Cure), The Cure (Band) References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsisaplanet/pseuds/marsisaplanet
Summary: Although there are seven of them in their relationship, Richie and Eddie love each other the most.Or: A glimpse at Reddie throughout the Losers Club's polyamorous relationship.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Everyone/Everyone, OT7 - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85
Collections: IT Fandom Secret Santa 2019





	Twenty Eight Point Six Percent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ot3srock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ot3srock/gifts).



> This fic is for @loserclubbitches on Tumblr! I'm sorry that this is a bit late, I've had finals and some crazy family stuff this week. This was honestly pretty fun to write and I hope you this is what you were looking for!

It’s sort of strange living with seven people in one house. But it wasn’t just a house to the seven of them, it was a home. A place where they all stayed together in their own little realm, free of judgement from the outside world. Seven people in one relationship. Seven people with their own autonomy. Seven people who loved their family.

That’s what it boiled down to. The Losers were a family, a fucked up one of course, but a family nonetheless. But in every family, there are always those who are closer than others. This was the case with two of them.

Richie and Eddie, Eddie and Richie. They were two halves of a whole mess. There was proof of this in everything surrounding them.

From the constant bickering to the state of their shared room, the two boys were always connected in some form or fashion. Whether it was through an argument or through a kiss, everyone could always see how clearly and blatantly in love they were.

When the Losers moved into their shared three story house, it only made sense that Richie and Eddie would share a room. Their decorating senses clashed a bit when they began to make their room their own space. 

Richie wanted very bright and bold colors while Eddie wanted something more subdued. Thus, the following conversation occurred at Home Depot.

“Richie,” Eddie said, glaring at his boyfriend who currently had about twenty paint swatches in his hands.

“Yes Edward, my darling dearest?” he asked, flipping through the swatches as if they were his hand in a game of poker.

“We aren’t getting all of those colors,” Eddie stated. Richie had a rainbow in his hands, and while Eddie was gay, he didn’t want his room to have all of the colors of the pride flag vomitted across his walls. 

“Eds, I wasn’t planning on getting all of these,” Richie said, pointing the swatches at Eddie. “Some of these are for the other lovely people that we live with.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, walking so that he was behind Richie. “Which colors were you thinking of for us then?” 

Richie shuffled through the swatches until he held a chartreuse swatch, an unsettling shade of dark peach, and an actually palatable shade of navy blue.

“Oh fuck no,” Eddie said, snatching the swatches out of Richie’s hands. 

“But Eds,” Richie protested, trying to grab the swatches back from his boyfriend. “We need some color.”

“There’s going to be plenty of color in our room when you cover it in movie posters!” Eddie replied as he began to flip through the colors himself. “Although I don’t mind that dark blue you were looking at. That might be a good feature wall.”

“Ooooh Eds baby,” Richie moaned. “Talk HGTV to me.”

“Beep Beep Richie,” Eddie replied, not taking his eyes off of the little cardboard cards he had in his hands. “Seriously though, that dark blue isn’t all that bad.”

“. . . So are we getting it then?” Richie asked.

“I mean we have to think of a lighter complementary color but sure,” Eddie shrugged, looking up at his boyfriend. “Why not.”

And with that, Richie picked Eddie up and spun him around while Eddie tried to kick him in the balls simultaneously. 

*

There was paint in Eddie’s hair. There was paint on his hands. He thought that paint might be on his ass cheeks. And there wasn’t anything Eddie could really do about it because there was light pastel blue paint in Eddie’s hair and on an old shirt of Richie’s that he was wearing and he was currently worried that he was going to get paint in his eyes.

“Hey Stan?” Eddie called from inside the bedroom as Richie continued to flick paint onto the walls.

“Yeah babe?” Stan asked, walking down the hallway towards Richie and Eddie’s bedroom. 

“Do we have paint thinner?” Eddie asked as soon as Stan walked inside the bedroom. Stan blinked slowly, his emerald green eyes wide as he saw the state Eddie was in.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how paint thinner works Eddie,” Stan said, moving a spare curl out of Eddie’s eyes. He sighed, looking at his paint stained clothes, Stan gave him a pitiful look in return.

“It’s okay Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said as he slowly removed painter’s tape from underneath a window sill. “We’ll just spend five steamy hours in the shower together.”

“Only if I join,” Stan said as he resisted the urge to lean against the door frame.

“Of course Staniel the Maniel,” Richie said with a smirk. Stan wrinkled his nose.

“Nevermind,” Stan said as he turned out of their bedroom.

“I guess it’ll just be us two then Eds,” Richie said, moving in to place a large hand on Eddie’s waist. 

“Painting first,” Eddie said, placing a peck on Richie’s lips. “Sex later.”

*

Three days later and furniture was moved into the room. As Eddie had suspected, Richie had framed several movie posters in their room. The one that Eddie truly appreciated though wasn’t a movie poster, it was a framed print of Ziggy Stardust that watched the two boys like a hawk.

Mike had bought several plants for the house and Eddie currently had four succulents laid out on the window sill by his and Richie’s bed. They were quaint little plants, all potted neatly in old tea cups Beverly had found at the flea market one day. 

It was an everyday routine. Eddie would check on the plants as Richie starfished out across their queen sized bed. He’d change and pad barefoot into the kitchen, Mike’s dog Mr. Chips on his heels. 

Today he would make omelets. Richie didn’t like bell peppers and Ben wanted extra cheese. Beverly wanted jalapenos in her’s, fiery like her hair and her personality. Bill wanted ham and bacon in his and Stan was going to throw a fit if he didn’t have parmesan.

Mike though, was a saint. He didn’t give two shits about how his omelet was fucking made.

So Eddie set to cracking eggs, a scent and a bright sizzle wafting into the others’ rooms from the kitchen. Ben walked groggily in as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Hey Eddie,” Ben mumbled as he pressed a kiss into Eddie’s hair. “Do you want help?”

“Ben sweetheart,” Eddie replied, pushing him gently away. “I don’t want you breaking anything. Everyone knows you aren’t a morning person.”

“I’ll get something from the fridge for you then,” Ben said, his bunny slippers creating a shuffling noise across the wood floor. 

“Can you grab the tomatoes please?” Eddie asked, gently whisking his eggs in a plastic bowl. Ben hummed in reply, grabbing various produce items before setting them next to Eddie’s cutting board. 

“Do you want help cutting up stuff?” Ben asked. That was Ben, always wanting to help.

“Go hang out on the couch Benny,” Eddie said, leaning his head on Ben’s shoulder. “You were up all night working on those blue prints.”

Ben nodded. Being an intern at a drafting firm was hard work. It led to gallons of coffee being consumed and late nights almost every single day of the week. So Ben listened to Eddie and climbed onto the gargantuan sofa in the living room. 

Eddie continued to cook along to the sound of the TV in the background. The other Losers slowly trickled out of their bedrooms, each one of them coming behind Eddie and wishing him a ‘good morning’.

Richie was up last.

“Hey Eds,” Richie said, ruffling Eddie’s hair right as he was about to expertly flip an omelet. Eddie let out a little huff, ducking away from Richie’s grasp before he actually flipped the omelet.

“I didn’t put green peppers in yours,” Eddie replied once he realized his hair wasn’t about to be attacked by Richie’s hands again.

“My Eddie Spaghetti knows me so well,” Richie cooed, snitching a piece of bacon on the stove top next to Eddie’s frying pan.

“God you’re insufferable sometimes,” Eddie groaned as he poured the eggs into his frying pan once again. This was the last omelet he had to make and then he could finally eat.

“You said sometimes for a reason sweet cheeks,” Richie grinned, his eyes resting to look at Eddie’s ass in the new pair of shorts he had just bought.

“I guess you’re good for some things,” Eddie shrugged. Richie gasped in horror, a hand thrown across his chest.

“Wasted love!” he cried. Eddie resisted the urge to giggle.

“Is he b-being over dramatic ag-gain?” Bill asked, as he walked over to refill his coffee cup.

“When isn’t he?” Stan called from the living room. 

“Your omelet is over there Rich,” Eddie said, pointing at a plate with his spatula.    
  


“Roger that,” Richie replied before pressing a kiss by Eddie’s brow. He hurriedly grabbed his omelet and ran into the living room saying, “You guys started the new episode of the Good Place without me?”

Eddie couldn’t fight off the smile that was dancing across his face. 

*

While Eddie liked the mornings where he made breakfast, his favorite way of waking up wasn’t to the sound of an alarm clock blaring right next to his ear. His favorite way to wake was by hearing his bedroom door creak open and the sound of paws hitting the floor after it. 

Well that or the owner of those paw’s licking him to death. 

“Mr. Chips,” Eddie giggled as the old basset hound licked gently at his nose. Richie rolled over so that his head was against Eddie’s left shoulder.

“That dog loves your attention,” Richie mumbled, his eyes half opened. Not that it mattered, he wouldn’t be able to see if they were opened or if they were closed.

“He just wants scratches,” Eddie said with a smile, scratching under Mr. Chips’ chin and over his ears. 

“Mr Chips,” Mike groaned as he stuck his head through Richie and Eddie’s door. “What did I tell you about running into other people’s rooms huh?” Mike gently picked up the dog as he berated him.

“It’s okay Mikey,” Richie said, still squinting. “I love Eddie almost as much as I love Mr. Chips.” Richie received an elbow to the ribs. Mike merely chuckled.

“I’ll let you guys get some rest,” Mike said as he coralled his dog out of their bedroom. 

There was a moment of silence after Mike closed the door. Eddie’s head laid on Richie’s chest as Richie gently stroked his hair, eyes still half closed.

“What if we got a dog,” Eddie said quietly. “Or a cat.”

“Or a beta fish,” Richie said jokingly. 

“I’m being serious Richie,” Eddie tilted his head so he was looking Richie in the eyes. 

“We’ve got Mr. Chips Eds,” Richie replied, his index finger tracing patterns across Eddie’s cheekbones.

“Yeah but Mr. Chips is Mike’s dog. What if we got our own pet.”

“We’d still be sharing with the others,” Richie said.

“Well yeah,” Eddie said, tilting his head back down. His neck had started to cramp while it was in that position. 

Richie began to gently dig his nails into Eddie’s scalp and scratch. Eddie sighed, his back arching as a result of the reaction. Richie always joked that Eddie was like a cat. But then again, Eddie always joked that Richie was a dog.

“So. . .” Richie began. “What kind of pet are we getting?”

“I don’t know. . .” Eddie whispered. “I honestly don’t know.”

They were at the Humane Society an hour later. Animals ranging from a chicken to an armful of cats roamed around the shelter. Eddie stared at all of them, eyes wide, his brain overwhelmed from the amount of animals in front of him. 

“There’s so many of them,” Eddie whispered in awe. “I hope they don’t get stuck around here for too long.”

“I have an idea,” Richie said, turning to Eddie suddenly. 

“That’s scary,” Eddie said, as he kneeled down to pet a dog. Richie ignored him.

“What if we got the pet that has been in the shelter the longest.” Eddie’s head shot up, the hand that was scratching underneath the dog’s chin now still.

“You’re a genius!” Eddie said with a smile.

“Did Eds just call me smart?” Richie wondered aloud, albeit jokingly.

“You’ve always been smart silly,” Eddie replied, no longer kneeling on the shelter floor. He pressed a kiss to Richie’s cheek. “Let’s go find our new kid.”

They left the shelter with a senior shorthaired cat named Marissa. Two years ago, she had been found abandoned in a cardboard box on the interstate highway, shivering with a large lump on her back.

She was healthy now of course. They had removed the lump. Thankfully she didn’t have any senior related issues. Eddie wasn’t about to get a cat that peed everywhere. 

Richie had a feeling that they were going to spoil this cat as Eddie literally sprinted into PetSmart. 

“Okay so we need to get wet food and dry food,” Eddie said as he scanned through the different types of pet food available. “Oh and Jamie over at the Humane Society said we should get clumping litter cause that’s what Marissa is used to.”

“I know Eds,” Richie said, carrying their cat gently. “I was there with you.” Eddie stuck his tongue out at Richie before loading cat food into their cart.    
  


“Do you think she’ll get along with Mr. Chips?” Eddie asked, only just realizing that there might be an issue with multiple pets in the household.

“Mr. Chips is the sweetest dog in the whole world and Marissa is the sweetest cat in the whole world. They’ll be fine.” Eddie looked away from the can of wet food that he had been inspecting carefully. Richie clearly saw the worry in his eyes. After knowing Eddie for two decades, Richie could easily read him.

“Besides Eds,” Richie said softly as he cupped Eddie’s jaw. “There’s no way in hell we’re giving her back.” 

“Don’t call me Eds,” he mumbled, looking down at Marissa in her newly bought travel carrier. The two of them proceeded to checkout after buying their new pet tons of toys and other goodies. 

It was a process getting everything into the car. Thankfully Marissa had curled up in her carrier and was asleep. She was surprisingly low maintenance for a senior. 

Carrying everything from the garage into the house was also a debacle. They bought a lot more stuff than the two of them had realized. Beverly was on the couch when the two of them began to haul their items into the living room.

“What the everloving fuck is all of this shit?” Beverly exclaimed. 

“We got a cat,” Eddie said as he and Richie slowly placed a cat tree next to the TV. 

“Can I see it?” Beverly asked, trying to not sound too excited. 

“She’s in our bedroom,” Richie said, catching his breath before cracking his neck. Beverly all but ran to the bedroom, almost tripping over her feet. Their wood floor was slippery and Beverly was addicted to socks. 

Eddie let out a little laugh before intertwining his right left hand with Richie’s. This was going to be another amazing adventure.

*

Stan frowned as he looked at the spreadsheet on his computer. His eyes were squinted tight from the blue light shining directly on his face. Eddie knocked on the door softly causing Stan to turn around on his chair.

“I made you tea,” Eddie said, handing Stan a warm mug. 

“Earl grey?” Stan asked before taking a sip.

“Of course,” Eddie replied, placing a soft kiss onto Stan’s forehead. 

“You’re the best,” Stan sighed. The tea warmed up his chest, as he leaned into Eddie’s touch. 

“Work giving you trouble?” Eddie asked, running a hand up and down Stan’s back. 

“It’s just tedious,” Stan said. He didn’t exactly frown, but his lips were shifted before he took another sip of his tea. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Eddie asked. He was the second most caring out of the Losers, Ben would always beat him. Then again, all of the Losers cared about each other, but there was something so touching about Ben and Eddie being so concerned. 

“I just need to get this stuff done Eddie,” Stan said before pulling Eddie in for a soft kiss. Stan was always so gentle, always so soft with his everyday kisses. 

“Hey what’s one divided by seven?” Eddie asked suddenly. Stan grabbed his calculator

“Fourteen point three if you round. Why do you ask?”

“Just thinking about all of us,” Eddie said with a shrug. Each one of us is fourteen point three percent.”

“And you and Richie are twenty-eight point six percent,” Stan said with a smile. Eddie quirked an eyebrow at Stan’s statement.

“Why do you bring that up?” he asked. “Richie, I mean.”

“Because you complete each other,” Stan said, turning back to his work. 

“No,” Eddie said with a laugh. “Seven of us is a hundred percent Stan. Check your math, you’re an accountant for Christ’s sake.”

“Well we wouldn’t be complete without you two,” Stan said, his eyes warm and somehow smiling. “Just remember that.”

“Okay Stan,” Eddie replied, trying not to sound too confused. Stan was right about a lot of things, but sometimes what he said could be a bit vague. Eddie had an underlying feeling that he would find out what Stan meant soon enough.

*

They were in bed. It seemed that all of the spare time Richie and Eddie spent together was in their bed. It wasn’t always sex, it wasn’t always watching Netflix and Eddie yelling at Richie for getting pizza sauce on their duvet while Marissa curled up on Richie’s desk chair. Often times it was just this.

It was Eddie having his head on Richie’s chest as the Cure played softly in the background. Ziggy staring them down from across the room.

It was Richie’s long fingers twirling Eddie’s hair despite the fact that Richie’s curls were longer and bouncier than his boyfriend’s.

It was Eddie sliding his fingers up and down over Richie’s stomach before Richie flipped Eddie over and attacked him to death via tickling.

It was Richie humming along to Love Song in Eddie’s collarbone as he slowly opened him up, taking his sweet time and enjoying the bliss that Eddie brought to him.

It was the two of them. Twenty-eight point six just like Stan had said. It was their little moments. 

Richie pressed a kiss to Eddie’s temple before mumbling:

“I had an idea.”

“That’s scary,” Eddie replied, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time he gave that same response. Richie ignored his retort like he always did.

“What if we got married,” Richie said, nuzzling into Eddie’s neck, placing soft kisses along his collarbone, up along his jaw, trailing and marking and painting and causing Eddie’s skin to bloom like the flowering plants Mike had gotten for Eddie after they both discovered how much Eddie loved his little window sill. 

Richie stopped when he realized that Eddie hadn’t truly let out a breath for about thirty seconds.

“Eds?” he asked, voice ever so cautious and gentle. All of them were so gentle, but they all knew that they would never break. 

“What about the others?” Eddie asked softly, doe eyes wide as he stared up at Richie. Richie could see the clear adoration, but he couldn’t help but notice the fear in Eddie’s eyes. 

“They know,” Richie said with a small laugh. “They understand. They always have.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said, a little lilt at the end of the word.

“You’ve always been my favorite,” Richie whispered, his index finger tracing over Eddie’s cheekbone like it had so many times before.

“You’ve always been mine,” Eddie replied, trying to hide the quiet break in his voice as his brain rushed a mile a minute.

“I like the sound of that,” Richie said, smiling against Eddie’s temple. “Being yours.”

“So do I,” Eddie’s voice warbled, betraying his thoughts. 

“Sap,” Richie murmured, pressing kisses over Eddie’s skin like it was his sole purpose in life.

“Your sap,” Eddie breathed out, his chest so warm, his heart so full.

“Mine,” Richie replied. And Eddie pulled him into a kiss, so slow, so passionate, so simple yet full of so much emotion. 

Richie and Eddie. Eddie and Richie. Twenty-eight point six percent of a seven part equation, forever intertwined, entangled, and enchanted. And most importantly:

Each others’. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @marsisaplanetyall


End file.
